


What a difference a day made (and the difference is you)

by Vracs



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: F/F, First Time, Fluff and Smut, One Shot, Romance, soft lovin'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 07:45:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17300618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vracs/pseuds/Vracs
Summary: Misty and Cordelia finally have the house to themselves so Misty decides to go for it and make the first move. She's been waiting long enough.





	What a difference a day made (and the difference is you)

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics taken from the lovely 'What a difference' by JRN Williams

_My yesterday was blue, dear_  
_Today I’m a part of you, dear_  
_My lonely nights are through, dear_  
_Since you said you were mine_

They stand together beside Cordelia’s fireplace. Her irises glow in melting caramels as the flames flicker.

The house is empty.

Misty feels gentle hands on her cheek and her eyes flutter shut. Cordelia is mere inches from her, radiating warmth, watching her carefully, and for a moment it makes her feel embarrassed - she’s never had this type of attention before and she almost doesn’t know what to do with it all.

She listens to her own pulse thunder in her ears, skin thrumming under Cordelia’s feathered touch. No one’s ever touched her like this.

She sighs.

“I ain’t ever taken’ a lover before,” she whispers. She can hear her voice crack and her eyes cloud over as she opens them. Cordelia is smiling at her knowingly. Then her hands are being taken and lifted carefully to Cordelia’s mouth, reverently, and the insides of her wrists are being kissed in the space between her silver bangles, and then finally the flat of her palms.

“That’s okay. I’m just so happy I don’t have to miss you any more,” Cordelia’s voice feels like a balm, soothing the deep, longing ache in Misty’s chest. Cordelia tells her she can barely believe Misty’s real, and all she wants to do is hold her and look at her for a long while and then they can think about the rest of it.

Except Misty doesn’t want that at all - _of course_ , she wants all of it, but right now, she wants something she can’t quite find words for, so she shakes her head and leans into Cordelia.

A soft _‘no’_.

Cordelia tilts her head, “No?”

“I mean-” Misty swallows, placing her hands on Cordelia’s shoulders. The back of her neck prickles as her breath comes out in short, little bursts. She steels herself and leans down, briefly checking with Cordelia before pressing her lips to Cordelia’s own. She’s so nervous she almost misses, catching the corner of Cordelia’s mouth, sweet and clumsy.

She drops her chin to her chest. Her cheeks burn. She doesn’t notice Cordelia’s beaming smile, the bite of her lip, the bottomless brown eyes staring back at her.

“Misty.”

Misty looks up through her eyelashes. She aches all over, mainly in the pit of her belly, but also in her chest and the back of her throat. She feels shame stick there, and desire. The moment she’d met Cordelia, showed all of herself to her, she finally felt what Stevie had been singing about all those years.

She used to stay up late into the night, alone, searching the stars for answers, longing for someone to not judge or hurt her, to understand her like Cordelia instantly had. She’d walk barefoot past the water and the moon, wondering if some day she’d be able to share them with someone; to count the fireflies together and bask in the silent nights. Sometimes she’d lie in bed and close her eyes, imagining what that would feel like.

It feels just like this -

Like the full press of Cordelia’s lips when she kisses her back, humming in content, hands sinking into Misty’s hair and all over her back to draw gentle, soothing patterns.

Like the smell of perfume and lavender, flooding Misty’s senses and leaving her dizzy and breathless.

Like the sound of Cordelia’s kiss, breaking with a soft _pop_ , and then another and another. They can’t come quick enough, one blending into the next until Misty’s tripping over herself and pushing Cordelia back towards her bed, not thinking about the next step because she hasn’t really planned it, eager, overwhelmed hands tangled in Cordelia’s blouse.

And Cordelia lets her, patient and amused as she sits down on her bed. She looks up at Misty and places careful hands on her waist to pull her closer - just as well because Misty’s legs are tremble and Cordelia acts like her anchor.

Misty instantly drops to her knees. She could worship this woman. The thought makes her smile. Cordelia looks so peaceful - her pupils are blown to black pools and her eyes are hooded, cheeks pink and mouth wet, earrings glinting in the firelight and she’s sitting there, waiting for Misty to make another first move, and she’s not hurrying or taking, though Misty thinks briefly, _maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing_.

She lets her shawl drop to the floor and pushes herself gently up on Cordelia’s knees to kiss her again. The coil in her stomach winds tighter. When she moves to kiss Cordelia’s jaw and neck, Cordelia turns her head and noses past Misty’s temple.

“What are you doing?” It comes out soft but Misty’s heart drops instantly.

Honestly, she’s not quite sure what she’s doing but she doesn’t want it to end.

“I don’t know,” she chuckles, “did I do somethin’ wrong?”

Cordelia shakes her head, “Not at all but-”

“Delia,” she says, and then after a beat, “I know what I’m askin’ for.” Her voice sounds foreign even to her own ears, gravelly and low.

“Are you sure?”

Misty tells her: Cordelia doesn’t have to be so careful with her, she wants Cordelia’s hands on her, in her bed, touching her and holding her, she wants Cordelia’s kisses, she trusts her implicitly and _God_ , if not now, then when? 

Cordelia scoots up the bed, tugging on Misty’s elbows, “Come over here.”

She follows, crawling up to join Cordelia by the pillows. When Cordelia rests back, her hair fans out under her in a halo and Misty’s breath catches. She taps her playfully on the arm, like before, and asks a half-joking _'Is this real?’_ to which Cordelia nods and cups her face.

“I’m not going anywhere.” She moves her fingers to Misty’s chest, toying with the necklaces there, then down to the belt at her waist. It uncinches with a click, Cordelia’s fingers smoothing the skirt of Misty’s black dress down respectfully, because Misty’s not wearing any tights and there is just the thin material of Cordelia’s own skirt between them.

Misty’s impatiently quiet as Cordelia touches her, over the curve of her jaw, the side of her neck, the line of her collarbones, her shoulders and strong arms and the black lace she finds there. Her fingers are slender and calm and Misty briefly wonders whether Cordelia’s as nervous as her. She wonders if Cordelia’s heart is beating just as fast, but Cordelia’s hot to Misty’s touch and Misty nods to herself - _yes, she feels it too_ \- and Cordelia’s kissing her again, gently encouraging Misty to straddle her, tussled hair falling all around them like a curtain.

There is heavy heat pooling between her legs when she tilts her hips into Cordelia’s and all she can think is, _'touch me, touch me, please, now.’_ She wraps her arms around Cordelia’s neck and connects their lips. She asks Cordelia, between kisses, if it’s okay to take off her blouse because she’s dying to see her, because she admits sheepishly, she’d wondered about it before and now she finally gets to live it. Cordelia lets her undo the tiny buttons at the back of her neck, moving hair over her shoulder for Misty to undress her, to kiss behind her ear and into her hairline.

When the velvet blouse comes loose, Misty breathlessly untucks it from Cordelia’s skirt, sighing as she lifts it over Cordelia’s head and off.

She knows her eyes are glazed over - everything’s a little blury as she stares at Cordelia, sitting there, on the bed, in a black bra, skirt bunched around her waist. Her moan falls on deaf ears when Cordelia’s fingertips slide up her thighs, sending shooting electricity down her backbone.

“Is this okay?”

Misty nods frantically. She helps Cordelia pull the dress up to remove it in one swift motion. Misty would be cold if it weren’t for Cordelia instantly coming up to press into her, hands folding over her back. She’s never been self-conscious about her body - she’s strong and she always liked what she saw in the water’s reflection, but suddenly she’s in a beautiful woman’s arms and her jittering thoughts are barely quieted by Cordelia’s lips on her cheek.

Cordelia tells her so, “Misty,” hungry eyes lingering on her parted, panting mouth and then, “when I had my second sight, I wanted to touch you over and over, to see you again; my visions don’t hold a candle to you. I didn’t think it would be quite like this.”

Misty licks her lips and clears her throat.

“I knew the moment I laid eyes on you,” she whispers. That earns her a deep kiss and Cordelia brings their hands up, kissing over Misty’s rings, the stones cool to touch.

She asks Misty if she could take them off, _'just for tonight’_ and carefully begins to slide each one down, kissing the bare knuckles left behind. It’s unbelievably erotic, to have her fingers in Cordelia’s mouth. She closes her eyes, revelling in the sensation of Cordelia’s lips there, and moves the pad of her thumb over Cordelia’s Cupid’s bow, over her plump bottom lip and under her chin. Cordelia drops the rings on the pillow blindly and shifts her hands under Misty’s ribs, caressing the grooves and the pliant skin, all the way down her waist and to the curve of her lower back. Her fingers lightly trace the edge of Misty’s underwear, tickling and exploring; it makes Misty clench, shifting against the deep ache that’s settled inside her.

The fingers move to her front, to the sharp angle of Misty’s hips, then beneath her bellybutton and back up to her breasts. She glances down to find herself shaking, heart frantic like a hummingbird. Cordelia’s palms are warm and light over her bra, and her lips move to the dip of her throat, voice thick as she hums into Misty’s every swallow.

Misty tips her head back.

“Th-this is so much better when you do it”.

Cordelia moans into her neck, pulling Misty’s hips into her own despite herself - a jolt of relief and then sudden realisation, and then nothing.

“Misty- We can-” Cordelia sobers, blinking away her haziness, “I don’t want to- rush you, if you’re-” she breathes, pressing a palm to Misty’s cheek and then letting her hands drop by her side so they barely touch.

Misty can feel Cordelia’s magic wrap around her, through the distance Cordelia tries to place between them. It crackles in the thick, breathless silence, trickling through her into all her dark, broken spaces. She takes Cordelia’s hands and places them gently back on her waist.

“I’ve waited for this for so long,” she tells her, shifting in Cordelia’s lap, thumbing Cordelia’s bottom lip until it comes away from her worrying teeth, “I know what I want. Please don’t make me wait any longer”.

The space between them narrows and Cordelia sighs, bleary-eyed as she leans forward, hands in tangled hair and then on Misty’s neck. She’s crying, Misty can feel the tears on her mouth, on her cheeks, brief and fast, then the feel of Cordelia’s lips on her own, the soft breaths Cordelia lets out smoothing over Misty’s chin in gentle puffs.

She wipes Cordelia’s face and kisses her over and over. She wonders how she hadn’t done this sooner, how she’d lived without it - a desert traveller coming to her oasis. Cordelia is a wonderful kisser - not that Misty has much to compare to - and it feels like Misty’s finally taking a long drink, satiating her aching thirst in big, greedy gulps. Her mouth is soft and earnest, pushing against Misty’s in just the right way, waiting for her and then coaxing, never breaking, tongue tentative against her bottom lip as it slides, once, twice to leave her spinning off her axis. Misty parts her lips, shuddering at the delicate contact, the warm and the wet as Cordelia scrapes nails into her scalp.

She hums, breaking the kiss long enough to tug on Cordelia’s skirt, “Please can I-”

“Yes-”

“I can’t-” she giggles nervously, pulling uselessly until she falls off Cordelia’s lap and Cordelia lifts her hips so the skirt can come down. Misty watches her kick it off the bed, staring bashfully at Cordelia’s long, pale legs leading up the bed. She puts her hands there, touching her calves, tickling curiously - Cordelia laughs - _yes, she is definitely ticklish_. It makes Misty smile.

Cordelia reels her back in, on top. “Do you want me to-”

_Yes, whatever it is, yes, now._

Misty nods. She lets Cordelia toy with her hair again - Cordelia looks mesmerised as she does it and it makes Misty twinge - and then she’s smoothing curls off Misty’s shoulders and making light work of her bra, then her own, then hugging Misty into a long kiss so fast Misty barely has a chance to admire the view. Instead, she moves her hands up blindly, revelling in Cordelia’s soft skin under her palms, pebbling at her touch and giving rise to goose bumps.

She feels blush burn down her neck. Her thighs squeeze around Cordelia’s waist.

Cordelia hums her approval into Misty’s collar bones and then lower still, feather-light kisses landing between her breasts, up to her shoulders, hovering here and there patiently until Misty tells her _please_ , arching into Cordelia’s eager mouth. Misty has half a mind to hold Cordelia right there, fingers deep in her hair, cradling and desparate to tug. She strains against the urge, clenching a fist into the sheets instead. She’s throbbing all over.

“Please, Delia, please, please,” her breath comes out in little hiccups as Cordelia parts from her, pressing forehead to forehead to study her carefully.

“Is this really what you want?”

Misty bumps their noses together as she nods, “I might die if you don’t touch me”.

Cordelia’s smile is beautiful and bittersweet - she sees it only for a moment because Cordelia obliges her then and she can do nothing but slump forward lazily at the coiling ache it pulls from her. She whines. She hears her own uneven breath against the shell of Cordelia’s ear, the drumming of her racing heart, the whimpers she barely recognises as her own. Her hands find purchase on Cordelia’s slender shoulders as she hovers over Cordelia’s lap, too tense to move. In the foggy distance, she vaguely remembers she forgot to take off her underwear but Cordelia doesn’t seem to mind. She’s pressing kisses to her neck, whispering to her as her other hand guides Misty’s hips down.

The sensation in her gut hurts beautifully, like someone’s wrung her from the inside out. Cordelia’s fingertips are light. They slide so easily against her. Cordelia touches her differently than Misty’s ever touched herself, fingers on either side of her clit, smoothing over with each meticulous stroke, then forming slow, deliberate circles when Misty keens against her. Her thighs burn with the strain, careful not to crush Cordelia under her. The muscles twitch there when Cordelia squeezes them.

Misty moans.

Her hips buck into Cordelia subconsciously, eager to build the diligent rhythm Cordelia’s started. She swallows thickly, lifting heavy eyes to Cordelia’s face. A pair of hooded brown eyes stare back at her and Cordelia pacifies her with a sweet kiss. 

Misty breathes out some relief. She spreads her legs a little, reaching down to cover Cordelia’s hand with her own. She stills briefly, panting.

“’m okay, I just need-”

Cordelia cottons on, shushing her and drawing a careful finger over Misty’s entrance, spreading the slickness there before pressing in. She shivers. Her forehead butts with the side of Cordelia’s neck and she inhales shakily. Once she’s used to the pressure, she cants her hips and Cordelia slips out, pushing in once more, the palm of her hand grinding into Misty’s clit. She repeats the motion again, stills, then again, and Misty shivers, mouth open in a quiet look of pure bliss, frowning as she chases her orgasm.

She can hear Cordelia’s fingers, the soft, wet sounds they make as they touch her. She’d be embarrassed if it didn’t feel so good, and then better still as Cordelia slips in another, making a beckoning motion inside of her slowly and firmly.

She’d planned to return Cordelia’s touch. She’d dreamt of this for so long, had imagined her mouth on Cordelia’s most secret places, loving her in ways no one ever had, giving her anything she asked for, letting her senses fill with _Delia, Delia, Delia_.

Except all she can manage now is a clumsy kiss and a faltering, desperate rhythm. She barely knows who she is.

She wants to say, _again, please, more,_ but all that comes out is a low groan and then a soft hum as Cordelia beckons her again in quiet, wet clicks. She licks her lips, tasting the sharp sting of salt on Cordelia’s skin. Cordelia is straining against her, rocking her, and Misty focuses on her gentle voice coming through over her laboured breathing, telling her how much she missed her, how beautiful she is, that it’s okay to let go when she’s ready.

The thing that shatters her are Cordelia’s eyes, because as soon as Misty feels her muscles start to flutter around Cordelia’s fingers, Cordelia feels it too and she puts fingers on Misty’s chin to lift her head, kissing her with eyes open, muffling the sounds she makes.

She finally caves, savouring Cordelia’s mouth against her own. Her orgasm splinters through her in jagged, crescendoing waves to leave her boneless.

She slumps with the aftershocks, quaking in Cordelia’s arms.

She waits for them to sever, but it doesn’t come. Cordelia stays still inside her, pressing cherished kisses into the curve of her shoulder and up to her sensitive ear.

The feel of Cordelia’s warm lips against her makes her quake and Misty nuzzles into her, running her fingertips over Cordelia’s collarbone and down between her breasts. Cordelia’s skin is moist and soft under her hand, she can see a flush ebbing there, crimson in the fire-light.

“Delia…” her voice is gravelly and hoarse.

The hand in her hair doesn’t stop, tickling soothingly at the back of her neck, down the bumps of her spine. Misty hums in satisfaction. She’s never felt quite like this before - jellified and feverish and sticky all over. She sighs, kissing the underside of Cordelia’s jaw through her blonde hair. She wonders briefly if Cordelia needs to be touched - she certainly doesn’t give anything away, coaxing Misty through her come-down with slow, patient hands. But Misty is desparate to, gaining a second wind as she hugs Cordelia to her.

She asks her, in a hazy, drunken voice if Cordelia would like that: please can I touch you now? I jus’ want to make you feel good, I’ve missed you so much.

Cordelia shushes her, eyes fluttering shut.

“Let me hold you first, just for a little while.” Arms tighten around her.

Misty laughs joyfully, realising that this is her new normal - from hell to paradise, she thinks she could’ve waited for ever had she known what she was coming home to.

“Only for a little while,” she beams, bringing Cordelia into a longing kiss.


End file.
